


Other People's Shadows in a One Person Apartment

by J_K_U



Category: Multi-Fandom, Naruto
Genre: Multi, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29599461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_K_U/pseuds/J_K_U
Summary: A collection of moments that aren't needed but I wrote. Warning: my inspiration comes when my mind wanders, a wandering mind is dangerous.(I'm writing a fourth chapter now, in the Jujutsu Kaisen universe, I'll call it "Blank Eyes"...maybe)
Kudos: 1





	1. The Drowsy Tricks of the Shadows

He had trouble falling asleep lately.

Before, he remembered the feeling of spreading out his limbs to claim the comforting touch of his bed and sleep after a tiring day of overwork.

Now, all he knew was the feeling of curling up under the covers and finding no relief, no warmth. Tonight, he flips onto his stomach, bending one arm under his turned cheek and on his lumpy pillow; the other hangs crooked off the side of his bed. He wasn't going to admit he was still scared of the monsters under his bed, conjured by the stories adults told to scare him as a kid. He was fifteen now, and when he had no one to run to he kept his mind peaceful dreaming about the future rather than conflicting over the tricks the shadows played when his gaze was not on them. 

A shiver runs through his body, like cold water rushing through clear streams, as warm fingers brush against his own. His arm seizes up as the feeling spreads like a caress- and it would be comforting if he did not live alone.

Heart racing, he pulls his hand back to the safety of his mattress and rolls away from the edge of his bed. 

He realizes when he lifts his warm hand to his face, as the blood that had rushed warmly to his fingertips race to flush his cheeks to a pink pallor- as the embarrassment settles in. 

After all, Naruto lived alone, there was no way it was Sasuke's hand that reached for his own on away missions- when they spent the night in unfamiliar surroundings during their innocent days as team seven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and under his bed Sasuke's eyes are sorrowful as he is not confident enough to face Naruto. (yes or no?) maybeeee heehee
> 
> Inspired when I let my hand dangle of the side of my bed while falling asleep. My blood circulation is bad, maybe I should exercise. 
> 
> ...but where to find motivation.


	2. The Shadows of a Masked Face (1/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was writing this and I remembered how during my first real panic attack in a while (which this is based off of), everything was very clear and I was using words like 'foolish' and 'fallacious', I really like those f's and sh's. Maybe because I wanted to say the f-word but my no curse word policy was like "shhh".  
> Ah, the twists of dialogue, of tone. I learned from my family that the tone I usually use with people is 'rude', which I had been calling my 'reading voice' because it's the one I use as I read out loud while editing. Well I don't actually talk with other people enough to be able to identify my own tone of voice, I'm only good at that when it comes to other people or my writing. Heh, I can say I'm tone deaf when it comes to my voice.
> 
> Anyway, curse word warning!

Water that is far too hot sprays from the shower head, cascading in streams from Akari's shoulders to her legs that pride had dictated keep her standing. She had long since become numb to inconvenient pains, and learned to ignore the tingling beneath the skin of her nose, the burning in her eyes as she held back tears until they no longer remembered why they were welling in the first place. Ah, but Akari was so regretful, so guilty, so shameful, so... _pitiful._ What kind of person cries in the shower after being reprimanded for something she was to blame for, but if they knew the whole story they wouldn't blame her? Perhaps, she was crying for something else entirely, her shortcomings.

Oh Akari wished she could go back to seven-years-old, when she was so delightfully ignorant. That was stupid, Akari was being stupid. She hated her self imposed standards, they made her feel like she was nothing beyond them in essence. She inhales and exhales sharply, again and again as her heart clenches and she finally lets herself sob, and she forgets how sorrowful her small whimpers and noises may sound.

"Can I just be a kid again? Can I talk to other people properly? Is this all my own fault?" And as soon as the words leave her, she regrets them just as she regrets everything she had ever done- even though she was supposed to be happy. "Shit, it is my fault, I did this to myself, I'm so fucking foolish because I really should have someone to turn to, and I do, _but I won't_."

Yeah, Akari doesn't worry people needlessly. No, Akari doesn't want to bother people at all. 

They have no need to be burdened by her.


	3. The Shadows of a Masked Face (2/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akari's gender identity = genderfluid, he uses a transformation jutsu to switch between the female body he was born with and his male form. I stopped using noting down every time he 'released' or 'dissolved' his transformation jutsu and just went ahead and switched the pronouns, it shouldn't be confusing from the last chapter to this one though.

The majority of people hated pushovers. At least- that was what Akari had observed from his surroundings. He absolutely hated keeping his guard up, it made him feel like he was always fighting against _something,_ and that exhausted him sometimes.

He was a very contradictory person, _if only people listen to him,_ listen to him? Listen to him say what? _Why would he say anything?_ Perhaps he had been pushed around so much as a kid that eventually instead of tumbling to the ground he had started to dance with the flow. Akari had these sorts of thoughts every time he was alone, swirling vehemence playing in his heart. 

"Playing, huh. Maybe I take my emotions too lightly?" 

Akari pushes aside the covers of his bed aside, but he pulls them back up after the cool air of his bedroom steals away his warmth.

At this point was there anyone who would have sympathy for him? No, they would only pity him, because Akari was pitiful and that's how he was raised to be. Someone who would be pushed along with the flow of his surroundings, and not a single person would spare his masked face a second glance because he had perfected it to never bother anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing these in my bed so that's where the stories take place. I should expand my 'setting' horizons.
> 
> At the beginning I rather like Akari, but now I just see 'em as a character who was taught to assimilate from an age, where he saw a path where he could live and a path where he could survive. He chose the path of survival because it worked best in his young eyes. At this point I really love and hate him because I find him realistic, I can imagine how he will react in so many different situations, but I wrote him so he doesn't acknowledge some of his rights as a human and now I kind of regret that. Well too late, Akari is imperfect as most people tend to be.


End file.
